


You Make Me Rise When I Fall

by MiscellaneousShenanigans



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-16 18:19:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9284123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiscellaneousShenanigans/pseuds/MiscellaneousShenanigans
Summary: It had slowly been understood that when Yuuri was uncomfortable, he would retreat; hide within himself mentally and avoid conversation and touch with people. It had happened before, and his anxiety had reached a peak that he was rapidly trying to clamour away from, lest he fall over the edge of reality.However, Viktor would be here to catch him.Alternatively: I was mad at the end of episode 11 and wrote the conversation they should have had.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I was mad at the ending of episode 11, so this is essentially how I think the rest of their conversation went. I finished it before episode 12, and honestly I was really close to the canon dialogue??? Edited to be canon compliant with episode 12. Find me on tumblr at sm-dc.tumblr.com!

“After the final… we should end this.”

The tension in the air was thick and nearly suffocating. Overall, the day had been emotional, and both men knew that Yuuri could have done better. His score wasn't horrible, and Viktor had seen the determination in his eyes, which he had taken as a sign that Yuuri was fine. 

The pale, trembling man sitting across from him, was clearly anything but fine. Viktor's mouth hung open slightly, eyes wide in surprise. His stomach was fluttering uncomfortably, and he felt his palms getting clammy. It was eerily similar to the impending break down before the free skate in China, where they had stumbled their way through what could be considered an argument. 

“I… don't understand, Yuuri.” Viktor's voice sounded weak and hollow even to his own ears, and he swallowed roughly as Yuuri flinched. It might have been a curse that Yuuri chose to maintain eye contact, eyes sparkling with unshed tears behind his glasses. However, there was conviction in his gaze and posture that didn't match the obvious anxiety exuding from his very soul. Viktor desperately wanted to reach out, to grasp his hand or stroke Yuuri's cheek, but his arms felt like lead. Yuuri inhaled shakily. 

“I've given this a lot of thought, and I realized something,” he started, hesitant, eyes averting at last to somewhere over Viktor's shoulder. “These past 8 months have been wonderful, and I could never thank you enough for what you've done for me…”

His voice faltered, at which point Viktor slowly leaned forward to place a reassuring hand on Yuuri's knee. Yuuri, to his credit, didn't immediately push it off, but he did glance at it with what seemed to be… embarrassment? Shame?

“Oh, Yuuri…” Viktor breathed, his eyebrows knitting together, eyes swimming with too many emotions to label. Viktor kept his voice as even as he could, but the tremble of worry slithered around his words. Yuuri stared at the window for a few seconds more before locking eyes again, his bottom lip trembling. He cleared his throat, which seemed to take serious effort.

“I… I can't do this anymore.” Yuuri's voice was a whisper, and Viktor's heart leapt to his throat, ice suddenly running through his veins. The thumb he had been subconsciously rubbing on Yuuri's knee stilled. “I messed up today, and I saw your face; your longing expression when you watched the other skaters, the way your jaw flexed… your eyes were far away.”

Viktor couldn't deny it, with a small hint of shame as he looked to the side, unable to see the pain reflected in Yuuri's gaze. It was thrilling to watch the competition, to feel the energy and the rush as skaters took to the air for their jumps. 

“You miss it.”

It wasn't a question, nor was it a bitter accusation. Viktor's lips pressed into a tight, thin line. He felt the guilt bubbling inside him, regret for not sharing his inner monologue twisting through him unpleasantly. Beneath his hand, Yuuri's leg was shaking, and his breathing was becoming more rapid and audible; he was psyching himself out. 

“Yuuri, I-”

“I want to end our relationship as coach and skater.”

It was as if glass had shattered, tiny echoes making Viktor's ears ring as he turned his head back to Yuuri so quickly he felt dizzy. Yuuri looked absolutely petrified, fear the only thing in his eyes. It felt like the walls of their hotel room were closing in as Viktor sat back and listened to these selfish words. Yuuri was serious.

Without realizing it, hot tears were falling freely down Viktor's cheeks, but he didn't try and stop them. He faintly heard Yuuri gasp, though Viktor was doing his best to not look at him. 

“Damn…” he sighed, blinking away the stinging tears. “I never thought Katsuki Yuuri was such a selfish person.”

All the bitterness he felt was thrown into the statement, but the heaviness of his voice softened the blow. 

“Yes, I did selfishly come to this conclusion on my own,” The lack of denial squeezed at Viktor's chest, the steadiness of Yuuri's voice cutting him sharply. “I-... I'm holding you back. I thought I could- we could-... I don't want to get in your way anymore,” he tried to smile, but it was a sad grimace if anything. “After tomorrow, you're not my coach, and I'm officially going to retire.”

Viktor sighed, sadness and disappointment palpable. There was a beat of silence, then the bedding crinkling slightly as Yuuri leaned forward, hand reaching out to gently push Viktor's bangs aside. 

Immediately, Viktor glared. 

“What are you doing, Yuuri…?” He asked softly. 

“Oh, I'm just surprised to see you cry.”

Something inside him snapped and he audibly smacked Yuuri's hands away.

“I'm angry, ok?”

It wasn't the suave, mature response he wanted, but Yuuri looked like he'd been burned, shock painting his face. 

“You're the one that said it was only until the Grand Prix Final!” Yuuri seemed almost offended.

“I thought you needed my help more!” Viktor bit back. He hadn't bothered wiping his face. Yuuri started some half baked retort, but Viktor was having none of it. “How can you sit there and talk about me coming back to the ice if you're going to retire?” 

Viktor leaned forward and clasped a hand tightly on Yuuri's shoulder, and the pained gaze in response was heartbreaking; his conviction wasn't strong… this isn't what he truly wanted. 

Yuuri looked to the side, shame clearly written on his face. The only sound between them was their own ragged breathing. Yuuri inhaled shakily, his left hand moving to fidget with the ring on his right hand; a motion that Viktor's eyes locked on to with another thrill of fresh panic. “... Win or lose, after tomorrow you won't have to stay by me-”

Without even thinking, Viktor moved to his knees on the floor, kneeling in front of Yuuri and reaching his hands up to place them on Yuuri's hot, flushed cheeks. This seemed to startle him, if the sudden hiccup was any indication. His rather large doe eyes grew impossibly wider at the sight of Viktor's crumpled, red face. 

“Don't do this, Yuuri,” he pleaded, thumbs wiping away tears that had begun to fall. “I'm not-... I'm not going back to skating.”

The trembling in Viktor's usually smooth, confident voice, surprised them both. When Yuuri immediately opened his mouth to protest, Viktor placed a finger to his lips gently. 

“I'm so sorry,” he started, unsure of where he went wrong. They had spent the better part of a year getting to know each other, nearly every waking moment and some sleeping together. They had hugged, shared a few kisses, exchanged rings, made promises that weren't as clear as Viktor had thought. “... I feel as though I've not been as open with you as I should have been. As your coach, yes… But more importantly, most importantly, as your lover.”

At the word lover, Yuuri's breathing hitched, his face scrunching into a pained expression that Viktor wanted nothing more than to kiss away. 

But this wasn't the time. 

Viktor glanced down to Yuuri's hands that were tightly clasped together, knuckles white and trembling. Sighing, Viktor slid his right hand down to rest on top of Yuuri's, gently prodding until Yuuri gave him his right hand. Shakily, he raised their hands, resuming eye contact as he kissed Yuuri's ring. 

“Viktor…” Yuuri whispered, lips trembling and face blotchy; he was trying to hold back more tears. “I don't understand. You don't have to be my coach. You can go back to-”

“I don't need it,” Viktor cut in sharply, but with a softer tone so as to not startle the other. It was quickly becoming apparent that they had both messed up. However, Viktor decided most of the blame resided with him. “I let you shoulder this great burden all by yourself, not realizing you hadn't understood my true feelings. Yuuri-”

Yuuri looked extremely guilty all of a sudden and tried to pull his hand back, but Viktor tightened his grip, not breaking eye contact. 

Bingo. 

It had slowly been understood that when Yuuri was uncomfortable, he would retreat; hide within himself mentally and avoid conversation and touch with people. It had happened before, and his anxiety had reached a peak that he was rapidly trying to clamour away from, lest he fall over the edge of reality. 

However, Viktor would be here to catch him. 

“N-No, Viktor…” Yuuri hesitated, obviously confused and panicked. His entire body was taut with tension, his eyes darting around for both a mental and physical escape. “I'm the one holding you back, I-... I can't keep weighing you down.”

Tears falling freely, Yuuri's voice a pathetic warble as his whole body shook yet again. Viktor was at a loss for what to do, or say, to soothe and comfort. He was a man of action, but Yuuri needed affirmations. 

“Yuuri-”

Yuuri shook his head and stood quickly, as if trying to leave, but Viktor pinned his legs to the edge of the bed despite his frantic shifting. 

“Viktor, please, I've already decided-”

He placed his hands shakily, yet firmly on Viktor's shoulders, trying and failing to push him away. 

“No, Yuuri, just-”

“Skating is your life; it is unforgivably selfish of me to keep you from it.”

He couldn't believe what he was hearing in such a tearful, defeated tone of voice. Feeling desperate, he wrapped his arms around Yuuri's knees, glaring with all the hurt and confusion he was currently being subjected to. 

“That's not tru-”

Viktor underestimated the strength of Yuuri's thighs, as well as his flexibility. In a single fluid motion, Yuuri had leaned back on the bed for leverage, pushing his legs forward to push on Viktor's chest until he yielded just enough for Yuuri's legs to slip away. 

Viktor only had time to blink before Yuuri had rolled backwards and hopped off the bed to make a dash for his shoes and the door, his breathing interrupted by the heartbreaking sound of crying. Victor quickly stood, shuffling around the bed just as Yuuri bent to grab his shoes and place his hand on the door handle. His hand was able to grab Yuuri's wrist before he could open the door and escape to who knows where. 

Using the momentary shock for leverage, he tugged, making Yuuri stumble backwards into Viktor's chest where the taller man effectively trapped him with his arms. Both were breathing heavily, but the weight of Viktor's arms around his chest almost seemed to calm Yuuri down, even if only slightly. 

“Yuuri,” he breathed into the other's ear, eliciting a shiver and a whine, though both were distressed, given the circumstances. “You've got it all wrong. Skating was my life for 20 years. Almost my whole life, that's all I've ever had…”

He trailed off, entertaining the brief rush of nostalgia to weave into his psyche, rubbing his cheek lightly against the side of Yuuri's neck. Yuuri's hands hung limply at his sides, but Viktor didn't dare let go of him; he could feel the tension thrumming in Yuuri's body, like a harp string about to snap. 

“Viktor,” Yuuri murmured, turning his head just slightly to look at him, his glasses askew. Viktor felt his heart skip a beat at the tiny spark of hope he saw in that gaze. “... I'm… Serious. You don't have to force yourself to-”

“No, Yuuri, _you_ don't understand,” he sighed in exasperation, taking a few steps backwards, Yuuri stumbling with him until they were once again in front of the bed. Slowly releasing his hold, they shared a look of understanding that Yuuri wouldn't run; they both needed to talk about this. Put words to the ambiguity of their relationship. “Please, sit.”

Yuuri sighed heavily, dropping his shoes and sitting back down with a heavy slouch, shrinking himself. Viktor also sighed, running a hand through his damp hair before kneeling in front of Yuuri again. Yuuri looked embarrassed at the arrangement, as if he didn't have the right to have Viktor on his knees. 

“Viktor,” Yuuri sniffled, reaching up to remove his glasses and set them aside, wiping at his eyes with the other hand. “I'm saying you can go. You don't owe me anything anymore, so it's OK-”

“-It's not ok-”

“- You can have your old life back-”

Viktor felt his face heat up, pulse rushing.

“-I don't want that old life-”

“- Without me to hold you down.” 

Yuuri laughed a bitter, humorless laugh, rubbing both his hands against his eyes. Viktor felt a nearly crushing tightness in his chest. 

“...Yuuri, I-”

Yuuri just shook his head, hands pressed tightly over his eyes. 

“You don't owe me an apology, I've already-”

“-That's not!-”

“- Anticipated that you'd leave after the Grand Prix Final-”

“- What? I never said-”

“- And go back home to Russia-”

Viktor's hands reached up in quick frustration, grasping Yuuri's trembling hands tightly, pulling to place them on either side of his own face, Viktor's hands shaking as he held them there. Yuuri's hands were clammy. 

“-My home is where you are, Yuuri…” Viktor cut him off, no subtlety in the waiver of his voice from the lump in his throat. Yuuri's eyes widened, as if this was new information. Viktor's expression was pleading, but he maintained eye contact as he again guided Yuuri's ringed finger to his mouth for a feather light kiss. “For almost a year, it's been you.”

Yuuri looked a mixture of terrified and devastated, which Viktor thought was tragic. However, he blamed himself; it was no secret Yuuri had anxiety, but Viktor realized with a pang of self loathing that he should have done a better job of being perceptive. This was never not going to be an issue, but they could easily avoid such critical situations like this with better communication in the future, on both their parts. 

Yuuri was looking at him with a skeptical curiosity, to which Viktor was ready to face head on. 

“Yuuri,” he began again, not breaking their gaze. Yuuri visibly swallowed, once again trembling. “My Yuuri, skating was my life. Was. But that night a year ago, you lit a fire within me,”

Yuuri paled, despite his cheeks flushing pinker. Viktor took this as encouragement.

“Up until then, I'd lived for nothing but the thrill of life on the ice. I was the top, the best in the world, and it was honestly so _lonely_ ,” he winced, thinking about his quiet nights alone in his apartment with only his beloved poodle for company. “But you literally danced your way into my heart, thrusting yourself into my arms.”

At that, Yuuri had the decency to look the smallest bit embarrassed. 

“I told you, I don't remember any of that night.”

Viktor smiled gently and nodded, moving their hands to rest intertwined on Yuuri's lap. 

“I know, we can go over it in detail later. But for now, take my word that you were absolutely enchanting, and it was to my great disappointment that you never contacted me after that. Then I saw your video, you skating my routine, and to me it was a sign. I thought you still wanted me, so I dropped everything to come to you.”

Yuuri's eyes were panicked again. 

“I do want you... but you can go back to it now,” Viktor felt himself internally yelling in frustration, but he kept his expression neutral. “You don't have to stay-”

“Like I said, I want to. I want to stay by your side, and not just until you retire. Yuuri,” His left hand reached up, fingers gently placing themselves under Yuuri's trembling chin. “I've not been clear, and I'm sorry, but let me be as clear as I can possibly be.”

Yuuri's breath hitched, his free hand coming up to fist the fabric of his jacket over his heart. 

“You're my present and my future; my inspiration. I honestly want nothing more than to build a life with you, wherever that may take us, whatever that may look like, and I intend to do that forever.” 

He paused for only a moment, a gentle smile on his lips accented by the pure love reflected in his eyes. Viktor seemed to be getting through to Yuuri, as his body had stopped trembling. 

“Viktor…” he whispered, breath catching as Viktor once again raised their hands to kiss Yuuri's ring. 

“I want to _marry_ you, Yuuri,” he whispered, keeping the moment intimate. “That's what this ring means to me. I was being serious when I said that earlier, but I don't think you quite understood.”

Neither of them spoke for a brief few moments after that, as Yuuri processed what Viktor had said to him. Yes, technically Yuuri had proposed in his own way, but the looming darkness of self doubt had poisoned his mind and pushed him to the edge of self destruction. 

“We can decide what to do, professionally, after the final,” Viktor continued, not waiting for Yuuri to reply. “However, whatever we both decide on, I want you to know, without a shadow of doubt, that I will stay by your side… and never leave you.”

It seemed that at last, Yuuri's resolve had cracked and he finally understood. A gentle smile curled his lips, and he'd never looked more beautiful to Viktor, now pudgy and red from crying, but eyes sparkling; he'd found his answer. 

Yuuri’s hand reached out and rested on Viktor's cheek, and the other mam gratefully leaned into it, eyes closing and a heavy sigh leaving his lips. Both of them closed their eyes as Yuuri leaned down, their lips meeting halfway in the softest kiss either of them had ever had. 

“... You never fail to surprise me.” Yuuri whispered, parting from the kiss for only a moment before their lips joined again, Yuuri moving his hand to tug upwards on Viktor's robe. Viktor eagerly moved up, and they both fell back onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, not breaking their kiss. 

Even if Yuuri didn't win gold, even if Viktor miraculously decided to come back as a competitor, they would still stay together… in love.


End file.
